Warm Horizons: The Acceptance Speech
by Cirrostratus-9
Summary: I came to witness Hope Estheim be formally inducted into the academy's Board of Technology, but can't help but get the feeling there's something else going on... Rated T for minor suggested adult content.


_**Hey guys, this is another standalone fic in the Warm Horizons series. The order doesn't really matter after the original one, but for those keeping count, this is #4. Quite a short one, but based on an amusing idea I had and determined I had to make happen... hope you enjoy!**_

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I struggled to get comfortable in my seat – the lecture halls at the academy generally didn't have very comfortable chairs, and the auditorium was no different. Selena always believed it was so you couldn't relax so much that you wouldn't pay attention to what was being said.

'I hope this doesn't take too long,' she said, sitting next to me, and also appearing uncomfortable. 'I don't see why we have to be here.'

'I don't either, really,' I replied. 'It is pretty interesting though. Hope Estheim being formally inducted onto the research board is incredible given his age.'

'Mhmm.'

'There are even rumours floating around that when Professor McEwan steps down in three years, Estheim's name is top of the bill to replace him. Which would make him the youngest department head the academy's ever had!'

'Not jealous, are you?' Selena asked, half-heartedly trying to get a rise out of me.

'Of course not,' I replied coolly. 'Given all of the first-hand experience he got when he was – let me think – _saving the world_ , it's not all that surprising. Plus he's really bright. Brighter than me.' Selena scoffed, implying that wouldn't be difficult. 'Brighter than you, too.'

Selena apparently had no response to this, so I settled back and checked my watch. Estheim's induction speech would be starting soon. The man next to me coughed and leaned back in his seat. He was taking up a lot of room. Like Selena, I was also beginning to hope this thing wouldn't take too long.

The auditorium was really filling up, now. Another couple came and sat next to Selena, and then some more after them. The guy next to me kept fidgeting in his seat though, and it was starting to get annoying. I turned my head to face him.

'Sorry, do you mind if –' I started, but he cut me off before I could finish.

'Oh, jeez, sorry friend,' he said apologetically, and seemed sincere. He shrunk into his own seat a little more, which didn't appear to be easy. 'I have a tendency to forget how much space I take up, you see,' he added. 'Plus I'm in a pretty good mood today.'

'Why's that?' I asked, taking the bait. It seemed only fair to be conversational.

'I won a bet.'

'Oh? As in, money?'

'No no, something I'm hoping will be a little more priceless than that.'

'I see, I see…' I said, not really knowing where to go from there. After a moment's silence, I continued: 'Did you know that Hope Estheim would be the youngest department head the academy's ever –'

'I did,' he replied. I tried to ignore the sound of Selena scoffing again from the other side of me. 'Matter of fact he hasn't stopped talking about it for the last few weeks.'

'Oh, you know him?' I asked, more interested now. I peered more closely at him. He was easily older than me. Maybe… mid-twenties? It was hard to say; he had a hood covering the top half of his face. 'Are you a PhD student?'

'Not really,' he said. 'But yeah, I know Hope well.'

Before I could ply him with more questions, Professor McEwan's voice echoed through the auditorium. He was standing at the podium on the stage below, thanking everyone for coming and preparing to introduce Estheim, who must have been hiding in the wings somewhere. He used glowing adjectives, describing him as a 'fine young man' with 'talents beyond his years'. After a few minutes detailing his accolades and the technology board's decision to formally induct him, Estheim himself appeared to warm applause. Most everyone in the technology department liked him, and it was hard to say in what proportion that was due to his part in saving Cocoon two years before, the fact that he was a diligent worker who got excellent grades (but never showed off), or simply his good character.

'Showtime,' grinned the man next to me as Estheim approached the podium, though I didn't understand why.

'Thank you!' Estheim called to the room. 'I can't express how much this means to me. To make it this far, to make it onto the Board of the Department of Technology – it really is incredible.' He paused. 'Especially when I reflect on those times two years ago when I wasn't even sure I would see Palumpolum again.' The room was silent with admiration.

'Professor McEwan has asked me to say a few words concerning this department and its future. Our future. Our direction. Well, I'm quite excited to announce,' he continued, indicating a slide which was being projected onto the wall behind him, 'some pretty interesting new developments in transport that will be coming our way. We'll be setting up separate research teams – one to specialise in propulsion, one to specialise in aerodynamics, and one – ah!' He stumbled, needing to hold onto the podium for support. There was a murmur of concern from the crowd, but he righted himself and carried on speaking. 'Excuse me. And one team to specialise in weight efficiency and balance.'

'Does he seem alright to you?' I mumbled to Selena while Estheim continued, but it was the man the other side of me who answered.

'Sure he is.' After he spoke, Estheim seemed to stammer again. 'Alright, maybe not.'

'Do you think it's nerves?' I asked him. 'He is very young.'

'Oh, I don't think so. He, uh… he knew the conditions of the deal.'

'What?'

'Don't worry about it,' the man evaded, as Estheim visibly quivered and stumbled over his words a third time. He was looking slightly red in the face now, and the other members of the board were looking concerned in the wings. 'Honestly though, I thought he'd handle it better than this.'

'Wait, so there _is_ something wrong with him?'

'Not technically, no. Don't worry about it,' he repeated, making a waving gesture with his hand as if to dispel the subject. I noticed he used his left hand to do this, as his right hand was thrust firmly into his pocket.

Estheim stumbled once again, and cried out loudly this time – finally someone approached him from the wings and spoke into his ear. Estheim seemed to reassure him, though, and after a moment the other man left the stage. 'Yes, sorry about this,' Estheim said, now addressing the crowd. 'I've got a bit of a twinge in my leg, you see. Didn't think it was this bad. Perhaps I'd better do the rest of the talk leaning against the podium, here…' He looked absent-mindedly up at his presentation behind him for a moment, before looking into the audience again. 'Yes, I was playing squash with a friend of mine. I can guarantee you, he's going to _pay_.'

The audience laughed politely, but the man next to me snickered heavily into his fist, as though he somehow found it a hundred times funnier than anyone else. That settled it. He knew something I didn't.

'What's going on?' I demanded of him.

'Watch. Hope's going to stammer again… right… _now_.' He pointed – again with his left hand – and sure enough, Estheim made that weird whimpering noise again, right on cue.

'How… how are you _doing_ that?' I asked, completely flummoxed.

He pulled what he had been holding out of his pocket and showed it to me. It looked like some sort of game controller. 'Listen closely,' he said. 'Do you know what a vibrating egg is?'

'…No?'

'Well, Hope Estheim sure does.'

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 **THE END**

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 _ **Heheh, hope you liked it! I had fun with this; it was refreshing to write in the first person from the perspective of a complete outsider. If you enjoyed this, I'd recommend you check out the other (so far three) stories in this series, each of which is designed to function independently, and don't hesitate to fave / review if you feel so inclined! Until next time, Merry Christmas and all that, and I'll almost certainly see you again with a new fic in January...**_


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